Fool's Gold
by TrelawneyofSinclair
Summary: HMS Surprise is heading for disaster. The ship’s scapegoat, Midshipman Hollom, is aware of the curse he has brought aboard and considers his opportunities. Is William Blakeney capable of using everything he knows to convince him to make the right choice?


**Part One ****– The Dandelion**

**I** was a fool. I am aware of that. But at least I cannot be accused of not trying to gain their respect.

**I** had never thought that I would face so many unpleasant encounters aboard the _HMS Surprise_. I had been congratulated of the few people that saw something in me when I was commissioned to the _Surprise_, and they had told me that I would learn a lot from Lucky Jack Aubrey. I had been excited to serve with them all... I doubt I would have showed the same enthusiasm if I knew what were to come.

**B**ut it did not all go the wrong way, I must admit. I met someone, I think I can call '_friend_'. The young midshipman Blakeney. I see an upcoming commander in his loyal little heart; but I can too see the kindest creature ever to have set foot on this ground. Despite his popularity amongst his fellow midshipmen, he showed much kindness to me, whilst the others kept their distance and whispered about me. He never spoke ill of me, he never sent me looks when he disapproved with my actions. He had faith in me. He hoped that I would overcome all those troubles and one day look back on the events with a smile.

**A**s I see them now, my fellow midshipmen, I feel as misplaced as a dandelion in a bed of roses. They are so cunning, so bold and so young. Brimming with life and ideas, they sit around the squared table, deeply focused on their books. Young master Williamson is concealing a little yawn behind that book, and the good master Calamy is giving him a sharp look, reminding him that the good Lieutenant Mowett is watching them. Lord Blakeney is the only one who is completely buried in the studies, fascinated by the nature of mathematics, but not able to comprehend it.

**M**y presence intimidates them. I can sense it. They are not uttering a single word, afraid that if they do so, Lucky Jack Aubrey might treat them the same way he treated Joseph Nagle yesterday.

**H**e is a commander with a strict sense of propriety, and he has taught his two lieutenants Pullings and Mowett to be just and firm. When Nagle pushed me, Aubrey immediately clamped him in irons and gave him a dozen lashes for insubordination. I think that was taking it a step too far, but the Captain summoned me down in his cabin and had a word with me.  
He is a good man, Jack Aubrey. He might be harsh, strict and quite tempered, I admit; but he genuinely tried to make something out of me. Other captains had given up on me a long time ago and instead focused on the younger generation. I think that stronger, younger and keener men than I would benefit from his bold adventures and well-meant words. Much of Nelson's famous way of governing his men has been passed down to Aubrey. One can say much of Nelson, I say; but he was a leader of men. He had the odds against him, but he managed eventually.

**A**ubrey told me about respect. A word I only know the theoretical meaning of. I have always showed my fellow crewmates respect; but I have never been worthy of theirs. I see that now. Their hearts respected their superior officers; they never even imagined respecting someone who was a subordinate in mental state. I might be their lawful superior; but I will never be their true superior.

**H**e also told me about discipline. That I _do_ know of; I know their forced disciplined manner against me. They never respected me the slightest; but they acknowledged the fact that I was superior, whether they liked it or not, and because of their fear of the outcome they chose to obey me.

**I**t is quite farfetched, is it not? Men who never show the slightest tremble when facing an enemy with twice as many guns, four times as many men and superior skill when going up in the wind, show fear when facing a weak, old and silent midshipman. They shiver under their wind barked and tanned skin, they tremble at the thought of a court-martial. But when it comes to looking death right in the eye, they never hesitate... They only hesitate at unknown obstacles.

**I**t is evening now. The wind is humming a tune so very similar to my own state of mind, and the accompanied sound of waves brushing up against the ship is like a lullaby. The young gentlemen of the berth are now up on the quarterdeck, enjoying themselves. I know that nobody had said that I was not welcome up there; but I will not ruin their evening. I know very well what they think of me. They deserve to have a bit of entertainment without having to act precautious, because like the rest of the inhabitants of this little wooden world, those youngsters do not know if they are to be claimed by the higher powers tomorrow. I know little of that as well. But I wish for an ending to this miserable play. My part has been played. I am tired of life… but afraid of dying.

**M**r. Pullings told the crew that we might catch a stiff breeze tomorrow. An opportunity to catch up on the _Acheron_ and leave those cursed waters behind.

**B**ut I think that the crew shall not only leave the cursed waters behind them. They should also leave something as cursed, something as hated, and something as loathed as those waters behind them…

~*~

"**M**r. Hollom?" a young voice sounded in the doorway leading into the midshipmen's berth. The addressed man looked up from his thoughtful position at the table, eyes painted with unconcealed sadness, but at the same time a smile containing quite the opposite of the eyes' state of mind showed on the man's thin lips. "Good evening, Lord Blakeney." Midshipman Hollom replied, slowly returning to the reality of the wooden world he was confined to live in, like so many others in the Navy. But unlike the rest of the sailing men, he had nothing to look forward to.

**T**he newly-arrived young lad entered the berth and sat opposite his superior midshipman. "Is everything as it should be, Mr. Hollom?" he frankly asked and curiously looked at him.

**H**ollom replied the look, but he read nothing else than honest frankness. Nothing else than concern for a friend, who had been keeping something away from you. Genuine concern, that was. Something he had never seen before. He felt like he for the first time in his life had found a shamrock. The one shamrock waiting for him to find it.

"**E**verything is in perfect order, Mr. Blakeney." He replied and added a quiet smile. He would not want to shade this young lad's bright thoughts with the darkness of his own. No; as a friend he thought it wisest to fight those issues on his own. He would not want to pollute Blakeneys pure thoughts.

**T**here was nothing to read in the young lord's face as he heard the reply, but he merely changed the subject. "I have some trouble with this calculation," he pointed out, picking up a sheet of yellow parchment with an advanced mathematical assignment given by Lieutenant Mowett to the younger members of the berth. "Would you help me, Mr. Hollom?" Blakeney asked and smiled.

**H**ollom was a bit surprised at the obvious compliment given to his mathematical skills, and he could not help smiling more honest than he had done in several months. "I would be honoured."

**A**s the understanding of the mathematical nature preceded, the great darkness surrounding the _HMS Surprise _– and the miserable midshipman Hollom – slowly brightened.

**A** question was put forward by the young master Blakeney after a while. "Mr. Pullings says that we might catch the wind tomorrow. Do you think so too?" he asked his superior, more experienced midshipman. A shadow quickly passed Hollom's face, a shadow of guilt and despair. A sign of what future events might come. "I think so too, yes. I am most certain of it."


End file.
